


To Hurt And To Comfort

by kohaku_shi



Series: The Scrap Heap (Fire Emblem Edition) [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Complete One-Shot, Crushes Abound, Friendship/Love, Friendzone, Gay ships, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love Hurts, Love Triangle, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, One-Shot, One-sided feelings, Tumblr Prompt, complete for now, for now at least, male robin - Freeform, mostly one-sided relationships and feelings, one-sided crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-21 16:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kohaku_shi/pseuds/kohaku_shi
Summary: Cross-Post from Fanfiction.net & Tumblr"Robin watched, silent as his best friend (as far as he could remember, anyway) tried not to sob into his hands, shoulders shaking, quivering just that tiny bit as he forced himself to remain strong. He watched, too scared to tell him that there was someone who cared for him that way. Who loved him for who he was, regardless of his faults." Written for a tumblr prompt.Fire Emblem: Kakusei/Awakening, Alternate Universe (As-Is/One-Shot/Prompt, Complete)





	To Hurt And To Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Second of two tumblr prompt writing practice things, this time from late January. The prompt was "Someone asked you out as a joke and you're really sad now, so now I'm scared to ask you out for real." AU. It's not quite this, but it's still something I did?
> 
> Anyways, this one's set in FE13 (Awakening). Male!Robin-centric.
> 
> Warning: Gay Ships and (Light?) Angst Ahead.

 

* * *

Robin watched, silent as his best friend (as far as he could remember, anyway) tried not to sob into his hands, shoulders shaking, quivering just that tiny bit as he forced himself to remain strong. He watched, too scared to tell him that there  _was_  someone who cared for him that way. Who  _loved him for who he was_ , regardless of his faults.

But for once, the forward-charging and seemingly blithe tactician didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to make his  _friend_  feel better. Didn't know how to _fix this problem_ , this wound of the soul that hurt him so…

* * *

Robin wasn't sure when he'd realized that he didn't just  _like_  his best friend, but that he was  _in love_  with him. He didn't know when the casual smiles and friendly shoulder gripping or pats on the back started to make his heart race. Didn't know when just the  _thought_  of him would bring a flush to his pale cheeks (thankfully unnoticed by those around him).

Maybe it was when he'd found the other growing just a bit distant upon befriending another man.

(He'd told himself that it was just his thing, he was nice to everyone, of course he wanted to make their latest member feel welcome.)

Maybe it was when he'd started to talk about this  _other_  man with such a bright expression, smile brighter as he talked about this and that, about  _that person_  whenever he could.

(He was just trying to be nice, he  _was_  nice. Maybe too nice sometimes, but that was just him, after all. Kind to a fault. It was one of the reasons he...liked...him, after all.)

Maybe it was when he'd seen the two together, walking about town and laughing, having caught sight of them only to feel…  _something_  inside him die a little, a distant sound of something as delicate as glass shattering,  _him_ shattering, as he stood rooted to the spot, watching as the two merrily went about their day (their  _date_ ).

He barely noticed someone calling to him when he turned and hurried away, chest aching, throat tight (constricted), and something hot painting his face a vivid red, head light and foggy as he hurried (ran) away from the scene.

Chrom didn't seem to notice when the tactician appeared tired and red-eyed in the morning. Or rather, he didn't seem to put much thought into it when the other claimed a headache and possible sickness before being sent to retire to his room and rest.

(Robin wouldn't admit, to anyone but himself, that it would be the first time he'd ever remember crying himself to sleep, to being so shaken and unsure of himself despite having awoken in that field that day without memories and having soldiered on without much care until that point. Because who  _was_  he? Was this really him? This…this sad and pathetic person…?)

Kind as he was, Chrom hadn't thought too much but to think that perhaps the other was overworking himself, stressing himself out with the huge task of planning and preparing for the upcoming war. Of being practically second-in-command in all but name as he kept track of every last person and their abilities in the camp.

(That hadn't been it at all. Perhaps it was because he was missing nearly two decades of memories, but despite his status as an amnesiac, Robin had a very,  _very_  good memory. And it was practically a cinch for the sword-wielding magician to do such things.)

He spent the rest of the day in bed, staring at his tent wall as he let the sounds of the camp wash over him, grip tight on his sheets as he tried to tell himself that  _it didn't matter_.

(But it did.)

And if the white-haired tactician seemed, perhaps, just a little more distant, smile just a bit more false, well, it seemed that he would have been a shoe-in as an actor, because no one seemed to suspect a thing. Perhaps at first, but those 'fears' and 'feelings' were quickly allayed with his usual blithely persona.

Then came the day _he_ came to him for… for  _advice_.

(He hadn't thought his heart could hurt anymore, but it seemed it could. Because  _this,_ this…  _confirmation_ … seemed to hurt just so much worse than the realization that he was in love with his best friend….who was, it seemed, in love with  _another_. Oh, the man hadn't come right out and  _said_  so, but Robin liked to think he was a good enough tactician to be able to read into the words his friend was -and wasn't- saying. It was important to know those he had to help command so he could know what condition they were in, what they could do and how he could 'lead' them without losing  _a_   _single one of them,_ after all.)

He pasted on a smile, encouraging his friend. Knowing that he, himself, didn't have a chance, but who wouldn't like the blue-haired lord that was his  _best friend?_ He'd simply have to settle for the happiness of his saviour and friend. That was all.

Another piece of his heart would shatter then, watching as the nervous yet excited man before him walked away, walked off to find and -possibly- claim another.

(No one would ever know, but had Grima asked him then, _had asked for his_ _body_   _then_ …the melancholy man wasn't sure he would have refused.)

And then came the rejection…

Perhaps he -they- should have known that Gaius wouldn't mean anything by the so-called 'dates' he and the other had gone on. But the man was charming in his own rights, and with all that he was showing him… was it truly a surprise that the (ironically) pseudo-sheltered lord would fall for such a person? So full of life, so friendly, so outgoing? The sweets-loving thief might not have meant to, but in the end, he  _had_  ended up sweeping the descendant of the first Exalt off his feet.

Had  _stolen his heart_ , some might even say. He wasn't a bad person though, as evidenced when, instead of using the lord and letting him continue to think they had a chance, the rogue had done the opposite, doing his best to let him down easy. (It was never so easy when it came to matters of the heart, though.)

Robin knew he shouldn't hold it against the other, but how could he not when his best friend was doing his best not to break apart in front of him? When the blue-haired Falchion-wielder's heart was shattering like glass as he tried not to cry?

For once, the white-haired tactician had no idea what to do. No plans, no genius new ideas,  _nothing_. And to think that he had been so, so glad to find out that Gaius had rejected the other, the thought that maybe now, just  _maybe,_   _he_  would have a chance. Chrom was, quite literally, the world to him, after all. Having been the first person he'd seen, the first person who'd helped him, supported him… The first person in  _all of his memory_  to hold out a hand to the amnesiatic man (adolescent? He wasn't really sure how old he was, but he would like to assume he was an adult, at least).

He was ashamed of the thought, now. Of the feeling of  _hope_  that had welled up when Gaius had awkwardly walked past him, clearly not having expected the 'confession' that had likely taken so much of the young lord's courage…

And so here he stood, awkwardly loitering about Chrom's tent, for once at a complete loss of what to do. (Really, he was surprised that Frederick hadn't appeared to shoo him off or question him by this point, if he was being honest.)

It wasn't until a clearly tired and red-eyed lord looked up from his desk as he'd stood, probably pushing his chair back as he did to cross the space that either of them noticed each other. A startled tactician and a somewhat surprised (and embarrassed) lord finding themselves face to face when the tent flap found itself opened.

For a moment, the two stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, neither willing to look the other in the eye.

"Oh, hey Robin-"

"Chrom! Hi-"

They paused, opening their mouths to apologize for talking over the other before insisting the other go first. It didn't work out well, and instead, the two found themselves standing there before they finally spoke up again.

"You, uh, you want to come in?" Rubbing the back of his neck, Chrom tried to pretend he wasn't as affected as he really was.

Robin swallowed the words in his mouth, knowing that nothing he said now would end well, or, well, not awkwardly or foot-in-mouth at least, so he nodded. "Y-yeah, we can…talk…if you want…" he said at last.

And still, neither looked at the other.

Nodding, Chrom turned back, gesturing for the other to follow, as he entered his tent again, moving to take a seat on his bed so that Robin could take the chair. The two settled easily (actions ingrained by what was now habit), before the awkward air returned.

"So… how'd it...go…?" Though he'd known the answer just from looking at both Gaius and Chrom, the question had still slipped through, causing the tactician to wince at the terrible question, tactics-wise.

Chrom just gave him a tired smile. "It didn't really 'go'," he said, voice wavering just a bit despite his best efforts, the smile that barely even encompassed half of what it usually did faltering even as he tried to pass it off as a bad joke.

There was a pause, one unsure whether to speak, the other… well, he wasn't sure if he could handle rehashing just what had gone on when he'd… _confessed_.

Finally, he spoke again, turning away from the other's eyes. "He…" he started, pausing and rewording his statement. "I was rejected," he said at last, voice thick as he blinked, walls beginning to crash as he stopped pretending.

And so Robin watched, silent as his best friend (as far as he could remember, anyway) tried not to sob into his hands, shoulders shaking, quivering just that tiny bit as he forced himself to remain strong. He watched, too scared to tell him that there  _was_  someone who cared for him that way. Who  _loved him for who he was_ , regardless of his faults.

But for once, the forward-charging and seemingly blithe tactician didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to make his friend  _feel better_. Didn't know how to  _fix this problem_ , this wound of the soul that hurt him so…

He stopped thinking, standing from the seat he'd moved over so they could face each other as they talked. (Though there was much less talking now than there had been on prior occasions.) Without another word he strode the few steps over to the hurting lord's side, settling down and pulling the (thankfully) unarmored man into a hug.

Softly, he spoke. "Go ahead, Chrom. Just… Just let it all out," he told him, doing his best not to grip the other too tightly, heart simultaneously racing and aching with pain. He followed the barely-remembered and distant words in his mind, likely some phantom of a memory before he'd lost them all, something that had once comforted him but now just made him so, so sad. "You'll feel better again afterwards, I promise," he whispered, feeling the wetness on his shoulder as his friend, his crush,  _the one he loved_  gave in at last.

It hurt, seeing him hurt. It hurt just as badly (perhaps more so) than what he'd felt  _before_ … And if Robin let a few tears escape then as well, well, no one had to know.

It would be a while before the other would settle, the time spent with the white-haired male talking about anything and everything, trying to fill the otherwise silent tent with as much soothing and comfort as he did. Never looking at the blunette as his walls crashed, as he let it all out and grieved. For a love lost before it could even begin. For time wasted on what would never be, a first love, and a broken heart.

* * *

When he finally finished, when his tears dried and he could cry no more, when Robin could barely speak anymore from talking so much, Chrom finally found himself feeling empty, exhausted even. But at the same time, he felt lighter, and he found himself…content. It wasn't better, not really, but it didn't  _hurt_  so much anymore, at the very least. The somewhat slim (for fingers that belonged to a man, at least) digits running through his hair felt nice too. The air was quiet, and though the other was no longer talking, he was a comfortable presence at his side.

Chrom was almost reluctant to move, tired (red rimmed) eyes shifting look at the white-haired male. "…Robin…?" the softness of the word, the actual speech seemed to startle the other. He almost protested as the fingers stopped carding through his hair, gently removing themselves as equally tired eyes met his (there was something he hadn't seen there before, or perhaps simply hadn't noticed…and didn't that just make the man feel a little worse, a little guilty at the thought that he'd -even remotely possibly- been neglecting his friend over a crush).

A flicker of  _something_  before a soft smile took its place, one that… one that simply seemed  _different_  somehow. (He almost cursed himself when he realized it'd made his heart skip a beat. Was he really so fickle…?)

"Feeling better now?" The words, soft as they were, were rather hoarse as well. Guilt welled again as he finally forced himself to move away, straightening from where he'd cried on his friend and comrade's shoulder (and how embarrassing, to have let himself go like that… Though he couldn't deny that he felt a  _little_  better now).

"…Yeah, sorry about that…"  _Robin_ , he wanted to say, to speak the other's name, but somehow… Somehow, it felt almost…wrong to do so. At least, for the moment. And yet, the other still smiled, somewhat weary if warm.

" 's fine, what are friends fo-r, after all…" And as the other winced, voice cracking a bit from speaking so much earlier, Chrom finally straightened completely, somewhat alarmed by the occurrence.

It wouldn't do if their all-important tactician couldn't speak to relay suggestions and orders, after all! (Or so he told himself as he stood to grab a pitcher of water that Frederick always made sure was close by in case the young lord would need it… Chrom had never been more grateful for the overly serious and protective man's habits…for once.)

Shoving a cup of water he poured -almost carelessly in his haste- towards the other, he felt just a bit flustered now that he had time to think about what'd happened. "Sorry," he murmured, a tad chagrinned at the situation.

Robin just smiled, appearing almost indulgent as he carefully accepted the cup to avoid spilling any on himself (part of his arms having fallen asleep after awhile and was now sending somewhat uncomfortable zings down them). Shaking his head, the white-haired male took a sip before speaking. "It's fine, Chrom," the other murmured, finishing his sentence before taking another slow sip. "What are friends for, right?"

And if something…strange passed through his expression, a strange pause in his wording, Chrom might have missed it if he'd glanced away a second sooner. But he hadn't, and it gave him pause.

Frowning, (pushing his thoughts and feelings aside for the moment as he fell back into his prior seating by the other) Chrom stared. Robin giving him a startled glance at the shift in the bedding before turning his attention back to soothing his throat.

Drinking it too quickly wouldn't help, after all. It would take smaller sips to ensure he properly quenched the dry and parched areas of his throat. (He'd never thought water could be considered any kind of delicious, but in that moment, throat finally being soothed, it just… _was_.)

He didn't notice as Chrom studied him, a strange, puzzled expression on his face as he tried to put to words what seemed to be so different about his friend… and why hadn't he noticed until now, he wondered? No, he  _knew_ , and thought it hurt, it didn't change the truth that Robin had likely been feeling…down…for lack of another word, while he'd been running around like a love-sick fool.

Startled at the realization (and guilty as well), he wondered, how much of the other appeared tired because of his little…crying jag, and how much was because he'd been doing more work than usual? Because -and it left him feeling somewhat cold as he realized it-  _when_  had been the last time he'd really had much work to do? All he'd been doing as of late had been…been  _trailing_  Gaius (and oh, how even thinking about the other's name still made his heart twinge) like a love-sick puppy…and perhaps some training and 'chores' (of which there were few, considering he was 'in charge of leading' after all).

Had Robin been covering for him? Been doing all of his work on top of his own in the meantime? Had he  _really_  allowed himself to become distracted to the point that -if not for the tactician- he'd have put the entire company at jeopardy?

It was a chilling thought…and left him feeling more guilt than heartbreak as he realized how blind he'd been in his 'love-sickness'.

The blue-haired lord was almost disgusted with himself when he realized it.

* * *

Sipping at the almost blissfully magical healing water, Robin let himself relax a bit, mind too tired to even think about silly crushes or love when he was so busy quenching the dryness of his throat. And if not for the distressed noise that seemed to suddenly sound in the quiet, he might not have noticed anything else at all.

Startled by the sound, he looked up, only to frown as he saw the distress in his friend. Alarm giving him more awareness, mind sharpened as he set the cup down (on the chair, no less) and turned to the other. "Chrom? Is- Is something wrong?" He stared, too worried to think of anything else. Was something wrong? Had he been triggered by some memory? Was he feeling unwell…?

One after the other, all the little options and possibilities ran through his head, chasing away the sudden weariness he'd felt after all was 'well and good'. Though, it seemed, all wasn't as well and 'good' as he'd believed.

The question only seemed to cause the other to feel even more distressed, giving rise to new panic in the white-haired tactician. "Chrom…?!" Half standing, half reaching towards the man he loved (yes,  _loved_ ), he almost froze, pausing as the other let out a strange laugh, half-strangled, half bitter in nature.

It was a strange thing to hear from the lord that always seemed to be looking forward…

And then he spoke.

* * *

Was something wrong? Was something  _wrong?_  The royal thought, almost disbelieving at how…how  _great_  a friend Robin was. (And definitely not just a  _good_ one, he'd done so much for him already in the short amount of time they'd known each other… and had it really only been just months since the day he'd found the white-haired tactical genius lying in the grass? It felt like it'd been so much longer, sometimes…) Worrying over him, when, first sign of a crush he'd had, the lord had all but forgotten him.

He felt a bitter laugh bubble up past his lips, half guilt-ridden while the other half of him felt disgust at his single-mindedness. His blindness to the bond of friendship, the comrade that should have been so much more important…

"Chrom…?!" Clearly worried, vigilant eyes met his when he looked up, and he gave the other a tired smile.

"I'm a terrible friend, Robin," clearly surprised and startled by the revelation, the other gaped, eliciting a laugh-like breath from the lord.

"What? No! Chrom, you're a  _great friend_. Why would you even think such a thing?!" Clearly baffled by the strange turn of events, Robin slowly let himself settle back down beside the man on the bed.

Shaking his head, Chrom gave a smile that looked very much out of place on the man's face. "Robin, I spent so much of the time since…since  _Gaius_ arrived hanging around him like some…some lovesick  _girl_ ," he all but exclaimed.

"I'm not a good friend, Robin. I…" And here he faltered, shoulders falling a bit as he continued, tired and guilty. "I haven't been a very good friend, let alone a great one. I let my feelings blind me to what was really important!" He was almost tempted to swear off love period…but even he knew that wasn't possible. Emotions were such fickle things, after all… Not even mentioning the way they seemed to sneak up and take hold of you.

"Chrom…"

And yet still, after all of his…his  _idiocy_  (Gaius hadn't even liked him  _back_ , how could he be such an idiot?) that Robin could still be such a good friend…a  _great_  friend…

He felt like he didn't even deserve to know the man.

* * *

Robin stared at his friend, torn between being horrified and…well, how did one feel when someone…when such a thing as this happened? Speechless at the strange turn of events, he waffled for a moment, trying to put thought to word and word to coherent speech.

Finally, after staring at the other's guilt-ridden face for a few moments, he sighed.

"Chrom," he started again, tone…gentler, not wanting to scare his friend. "Look at me?" He asked, reaching out a hand to his friend, wanting him to know just how… how  _sincere_  he was being.

He wasn't a terrible friend. He was a  _good_  one, a  _great_  one even. Where this bout of sudden…lack of confidence? No, this  _self-depreciation_  had come from… he didn't know, but this, at least, was something he could (probably) fix. Or at the very least, it was something he could speak honestly of.

Waiting until eyes as blue as his hair met his, Robin spoke up again. "Love does…weird things to people, Chrom. It's not your fault," he all but insisted, knowing by now, at least, that the other was stubborn enough, and -dare he say it-  _idiot_  enough to refuse to listen if he did. And when the other opened his mouth, he reiterated. "It's  _not your fault_ , Chrom," he said, cutting the other off. "Yes, maybe you could have done better in some cases," he continued, ignoring the other as he rushed the next words so he could get to his  _point_  -and not wanting the other to think it justification of whatever it was that had spawned the belief that he was 'such a terrible friend'.

"That doesn't mean you're a bad friend, though. Everyone has their moments, Chrom…even someone as  _perfect_  as you," he tacked on, half-smiling and ensuring that the other knew he was only half-teasing. When it elicited a surprised laugh, he grinned, pleased that he could make the other smile, if only for a little while. (He ignored the little butterflies that decided to start fluttering about again.) "But the fact that you could figure it out, that you (probably) won't do it again," because if he knew Chrom as well as he thought he did now, the other would strive to do his best to ensure that such a thing would never happen again. He was that much of a good person, faults and all. "That makes all the difference, Chrom."

Somewhat embarrassed by his little spiel, the tactician released the man, eyes wavering as he looked away. Had he really said all that to the man? Oh gods (dear Naga?), please don't let the other figure out that  _he_  had a crush on him from this. That…that was just, no, please. He just wasn't ready.

A soft chuckle caught his ear, drawing his attention back to the warm smile that now donned his best friend's features. "Thanks, Robin."

A smile of his own -more a grin than anything- founds its own way to his face. "As long as you're feeling better," he said at last.

"Yeah… Yeah, I definitely am…" The blunette murmured, suddenly finding the entire situation hilarious all of a sudden as he let out a chuckle.

"You really know how to make a guy feel appreciated," Chrom mused, matching his  _friend's_  chagrinned expression.

And maybe it was love, maybe it wasn't. But in that moment, Robin knew he would give anything to make sure the blue-haired lord would be happy.

Maybe the other would never love him the same way he did him, but just sharing this moment, this ridiculous scene with his  _best friend_ , well…

It really was worth it. This bond that he would treasure forever, even if his love faded or even grew evermore (because how could he  _not_  love Chrom? Really). Even if he ended up pining later, he…he wouldn't regret it.

Because if there was anything he would ever regret in his life, it would never, ever be meeting the blue-haired Falchion-wielding royal he knew today. He didn't expect the other to feel anywhere close to the love he did now, but… Right now, to the tactician who was most definitely head over heels for his lord, it was the little things -the shared laughter, the smiles- that really got to him.

That gave him happiness. Because no matter what, no matter how much it had hurt to see the other fall for someone else, Robin didn't think he could ever regret his feelings, regret meeting the man that he loved as they shared a sweet, simple moment of happiness in the here and now.

Really, he was simply too in love -too happy and content as he basked in the moment- to even think he might not.

Friendship would be enough for now…

It  _had_  to be.


End file.
